The Mark of Adam
by HecateA
Summary: When Crowley finally settled down after narrowly avoiding the end of time, he established London's newest and most talked-about tattoo shop. He's dealt with all sorts of clients, but never imagined this one coming through his doors. Oneshot.


**Author's note: **My roommate and I talked about the premise of this fic as _soon _as we finished binge-watching the show, and I post this now because we're having a belated roommate Christmas with everyone in the house. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. Please do not sue me, I can barely pay tuition.

**Warnings: **NA

* * *

**The Mark of Adam**

The shop was mostly empty which was fine by Crowley. He was happy to sit at the counter and sketch out a wide-eyed lion with a glorious mane and stars and planets in his eyes—not to be inked on someone's skin, just because the image was crawling in his head and should exist somewhere.

Then a pair of arms looped around his waist from behind, startling him. Aziraphale chuckled, pleased to have successfully made his way down from the flat they shared over the shop.

"You should've put a bell on the back door too," Aziraphale joked.

"Or a lock," Crowley grumbled, though he did lean into the angel's embrace.

"Quiet day," Aziraphale commented, looking around the empty shop.

"Two of my artists are out sick," Crowley said. "So is the piercer. I think they gave each other strep throat. Humans—such squishy outsides, and squishy immune systems to go with."

"Hmm," Aziraphale said. "You should have told me, I'd just made soup."

"You have too much time on your hands now that you've hired help for the bookshop," Crowley said, picking up his pen again to finish detailing the lion's mane.

"And you don't have enough of it now that you have the tattoo shop," Aziraphale said, leaning in so his chin rested on Crowley's head.

"Are we feeling abandoned, angel?"

"Not so much abandoned as… neglected."

"Hmm," Crowley said. "Well, we close at 6:00, as you know."

"Hmm," Aziraphale said. "Or at the owner's discretion…"

His lips were hovering around Crowley's ear when the front door opened, sending Aziraphale flying back as a customer stepped into the well-lit, dark-walled shop, their shoes wet against the reclaimed wood floor. They looked self-conscious about the raindrops running off their jacket as they pulled the hood of their jacket down, revealing brown curls, a pensive mouth, and curious eyes.

"Hullo," Crowley called.

"Hi," the young man said looking around curiously at the various framed artworks on the wall. He pointed to the tank against the right wall, across from the waiting area.

"I like your snake," he said.

"Thanks, we call her Lucy," Crowley said. "What can I do for you today?"

The boy scratched the back of his head. "Do you… recognize me?"

"Oh my…" Aziraphale gasped. "Adam? Adam Young?"

"Yeah," Adam said. "Umm, older, and so on, but…"

Aziraphale appeared at his side and wrapped him up in a warm hug, as if he wasn't soaking wet. Crowley, meanwhile, was simply thunderstruck.

"You're so grown up, look at you," Aziraphale said.

"Thanks," Adam said uncomfortably. "I'm, well, I'm in London for school and I heard things about this place. And then I saw the name, I like it. Clever—Cain's Mark Ink..."

"You tracked us down!" Aziraphale said, pleased.

"Yes," Adam said. "Well, I did actually want something."

"Like a tattoo?" Aziraphale asked. "Do your parents know about this?"

"I'm—they don't need to, I'm 18. I'm in school."

Adam shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the next.

"It's odd, being at school. I'm the only one who went to London, you know. Wensleydale is off in Oxford, Brian's apprenticing as a mechanic, and Pepper's backpacking across the continent. I wasn't even allowed to bring Dog in the residences."

"Oh dear," Aziraphale said.

He nodded. "It's… odd, being the only one in the world who remembers the Apocalypse. Not the whole world, mind you, but my world as it is right now. I was… I wanted to get a reminder."

"Forever?" Aziraphale said worriedly. "With ink? On your body? To remember the day that the world nearly ended and you met your biological father and..?"

"Now, now, angel," Crowley said. "Don't discourage business. You said it yourself, we're having a slow day. Adam, take a seat. Tell me what you're thinking."

"I'll take your coat," Aziraphale muttered.

Adam sat across from Crowley, who put the lion away and pulled out another sketchbook which was strictly for business.

"What were you thinking?" Crowley said. "Any pictures for inspiration?"

"No," Adam said, shifting in his seat. "I… I didn't know what would work best, what… what do you think?"

"What do I think?" Crowley repeated. "You want me to pick your tattoo?"

"Yeah," Adam said, relieved, nodding along. "Yeah, please. Should I come back another day, or..?"

"No," Crowley said. "No, I know what to do. Why don't you go have tea with the angel to kill half an hour while I sketch something out and get things ready. He's been making lemon squares, lately."

"I have!" Aziraphale chimed in helpfully. "And chocolate biscuits, if that's more to your liking…"

"Right," Adam said. "Okay, fantastic. Do you keep the sunglasses on while you tattoo?"

"I suppose you'll find out, won't you?" Crowley said with a grin.

* * *

Adam was surprisingly good for a first time client. He sat still, relaxed, didn't force small talk, didn't ask for a hundred breaks, and he didn't smell—everything on Crowley's wishlist. Crowley always lost track of time when he was working that way, but he was surprised at how quickly he found himself shaking his hand out and looking at his finished work.

"Alright Adam," Crowley said. "Time to have a look before I bandage this up. Why don't you come over to the mirror…"

It was no skin off Crowley's back if Adam didn't like it, though he was curious about what the young man would think about the apple tree now sprouting across his back. The roots were winding while the crooked and knotted top branches curled above his shoulder blades.

"That's an apple tree," Adam said, looking into the mirror. Crowley nodded; looking over the tree again. The tree was caught between seasons; Crowley had mixed apples, blossoms, blooming flowers, and leaves when choosing what to hang off its branches.

Crowley looked up to Aziraphale who looked impressed. The tree looked incredibly like the one that had stood nice and tall in the Garden of Eden. He knew; it was the one he had pictured when he'd drawn this one for the boy.

"The apple's from long ago," Adam said. "From the beginning, not from the end of things…"

"Right," Crowley said. "But you chose humanity and the path forward, on the day we met, Adam. Temptation or not, that's what happened in the garden too. Someone made a choice to go forwards and look at what happened from there on out."

"I happened," Adam said pensively.

"You did," Crowley said. "And you're here now, so we'll have to see what happens next."

"It's perfect," Adam breathed. "It's… wow. Thank you."

Crowley covered the new blossom with a transparent tattoo bandage, briefed Adam on aftercare, and dodged any discussion of payment for the work. He followed Adam out of the shop and flipped the open sign to 'closed,' locking up behind Adam who disappeared back into rainy London.

Aziraphale surprised him again by sneaking up on him and taking his hand. He leaned his head against Crowley's shoulders.

"He was right," Aziraphale said softly. "It is perfect."

* * *

**Stacked with: **MC4A; Shipping Wars; Hogwarts

**Individual Challenge(s): **Scaly Tales; Seeds; Omens; New Fandom Smell (Y); Inks; Themes & Things A (Friendship); Themes & Things B (Survival); Themes & Things E (Pad of Paper); Themes & Things F (Closure); True Colours; Flags & Ribbons; In a Flash

**Word Count: **1172

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_**Shipping Wars**_

**Ship (Team): **AJ Crowley/Aziraphale

**List (Prompt): **Spring Medium 2 (Tattoo Shop AU)


End file.
